


Heels

by KittehBoesternchen



Series: Kuroshitsuji Fairytales [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cinderella Elements, F/F, Fluff, Lizzie and Sieglinde bond over shoes, Lizzie centric, Lizzie/Ciel friendship, M/M, Prince!Lizzie, afternoon tea which should be a thing for everyone, bit of smut, shoe obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittehBoesternchen/pseuds/KittehBoesternchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie loves shoes. One day, she meets a strange, beautiful girl in her favorite shop - but she can't understand why a girl in a wheelchair would like shoes as much as she does. </p><p>When she finally dares to talk to Sieglinde, the girls soon realize they have much more in common than just a love for shopping. They may also love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, this is my first attempt at writing F/F. Please tell me I didn't completely mess up D: I'm not even sure if this can be counted into the fairytale series. It definitely has Cinderella elements - the good ones that I could find, not the very patronizing message that guys will like you if only you dress pretty. I hope you enjoy regardless :)
> 
>  
> 
> *

Lizzie considers herself a reasonably good human being. She’s kind, bubbly, smart, generally entertaining and a great friend – although Ciel usually disagrees on that one, but he’s kind of a grouch, so that doesn’t really count. 

What Lizzie just can’t understand though is that one girl. And she has really tried, very hard, to understand. 

Lizzie’s favorite store in the whole wide world is called Heels. She’s there at least twice a week because the assortment changes that often. She has memorized the delivery schedules and considers herself quite sneaky for doing so; whenever they get new shoes, she’s the first to know about it and the first to get picks. 

Usually.

Lately, she has noticed this one girl that comes in at the same times that she does. Sometimes a little earlier, sometimes a little later, but she’s always there Tuesdays and Fridays around the time the clerks change the assortment. First Lizzie was suspicious, then angry someone had the same idea she had, then intrigued. It’s a dizzying cocktail of emotions even for someone who is super emotional, all the time, like her. 

The girl has chocolate colored hair that curls at the ends, reaching her waist. Her skin is smooth and pale and clear, her eyes large and green. She wears cute tops and skirts, or dresses and Lizzie really wants to ask her where she got her clothes, but she doesn’t know how. There is always a slight smile on the girl’s face when she navigates her wheelchair through the aisles. 

Lizzie, for the life of her, can’t figure out why someone in a wheelchair would be obsessed about shoes.

“Don’t be an asshole, Liz,” Ciel tells her over afternoon tea, a habit they had both grown up with and keep up to this day, every second day at their favorite café. Ciel has just accepted a second slice of chocolate tarte from the owner of the small shoppe, a tall, darkhaired man named Sebastian who allows them to sit in one booth for as long as they want and supplies them with tea and sweets with perfect timing. Lizzie has long believed the man is a psychic, but really, he’s just very much into her cousin. She thinks that is quite cute, even if Ciel is being stubborn and refuses to acknowledge the pining. “You can still like pretty things even if you have no proper use for them. That’s what pretty things are for, anyway. They’re rarely useful.” He sips his tea delicately and Lizzie can tell he believes himself very wise right now. She rolls her eyes and reaches for a macaron. “Well, yes. But I still don’t quite get it, you know?”

He nods at her. “Maybe you should talk to her next time, I’m sure she’d explain it to you.”

But Lizzie doesn’t know how to approach her. It just seems rude to outright ask why she likes shoes so much if she can’t walk in them. One day, she comes up with something witty that seems nice enough but falters when the girl turns her head to look at her. Her lashes are very long and very dark. So Lizzie just smiles at her politely and scoots by her wheelchair to get out of the aisle. 

An opportunity presents itself when one day, a week and a half later, Lizzie catches the girl trying to reach a shoe that is just out of reach from where she perches in her chair. Lizzie, feeling quite heroic, swoops in to take it and offers it to the girl with a smile. “Need some help?” she asks and feels like an ass because of course the girl needs help but maybe doesn’t appreciate the patronizing comment. 

Her worries are unfounded when the girl gives her a grateful, brilliant smile. “Thank you so much. I’ve had my eyes on this one for a while now, but I couldn’t find a clerk to help me.” Lizzie looks at the shoe in the girl’s small hands and decides she has impeccable style. The shoe has a medium heel and a pump shape, low on the sides so green and black lace can wrap around the top of the foot; it looks almost witchy, but airy and light and it has a row of small lace bows down the side of the heel. “I know,” she replies, looking at the girl again. “Sometimes I think they’re just here to refill the shelves and then they vanish.” The girl nods enthusiastically. “Just what I was thinking too!” They both laugh and the darkhaired girl leans down to pry the shoe she’s wearing off. It looks uncomfortable and Lizzie sits down on one of the stools strewn across the store so she can help some more. 

“Allow me, I’ll help,” she says with a smile and sees a faint streak of rose across the girl’s nose and cheeks when she takes the foot, which is curiously small although the girl’s legs are of normal size and quite long actually, and slips off the shoe she’s wearing to lace her into the one she picked from the shelf. “It’s a perfect fit,” she says softly, gently putting the heeled foot back onto the pedestal low between the wheels where the other foot has remained so far. “It looks really good.” The shoe matches the girl’s dark skirt and the green tank top. “I’m Sieglinde,” the girl offers with a light smile. 

“Lizzie,” she replies and shakes Sieglinde’s hand. They spent the rest of the afternoon trying on every shoe the store has, giggling and comparing and adding each other on Instagram so they can post pictures of their adventure together, generally leaving a big mess in the aisles for the unhelpful clerks to clean up. When they get to the register, miraculously there is a cashier, who squints at them suspiciously as they pay for their shoes. Lizzie loads the bags onto Sieglinde’s lap and pushes the wheelchair for her so Sieglinde can keep a hold on their precious haul. They try the Sephora counter next.

Three weeks later, Ciel groans and lets his head bump against the backrest of the booth. “Lizzie, can you stop ranting for just five minutes,” he complains when she just launched into another episode of life with her new best friend. Sebastian happens to exchange their cups for fresh ones just now and chuckles. “When do we meet your girlfriend, Miss Lizzie? You haven’t brought her yet.”

Lizzie flushes as she looks up at the handsome man. “Oh, Sebastian, Sieglinde isn’t my girlfriend, we’re not….we don’t…we just get along really well.” Ciel scoffs. “Yeah, that’s why your eyes get all dreamy when you talk about her, huh? Because you get along? Don’t kid yourself, you’ve got a crush on her.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lizzie snaps back at him with a frown, tossing her golden curls back. “When are you going to make it official between you and Sebastian? Don’t act like I didn’t see you guys kissing in the kitchen when I came in earlier.” It’s the males’ turn to blush, Ciel furiously, Sebastian with a sheepish smile. He leans down to kiss the top of Ciel’s head and chuckles when the slatehaired boy bats him away with ill-concealed embarrassment. “I’ll get you two some more cookies.”

“So when,” Ciel grouches, sinking lower in his seat and crossing his arms, his blue eyes glowering at her. “You can bring her for tea, I don’t mind.”

Two days later, they make some space in the back of the small café so Sieglinde’s wheelchair can fit in with them at their usual table. Lizzie marvels at her new friend yet again; Sieglinde is smiling and laughing and talking, so charming and carefree; she has completely snared Sebastian in a matter of moments, who keeps bringing small pieces of his whole assortment for her to try which pastry she likes best and Ciel isn’t even mad about it because Sieglinde knows how to play chess and likes the same kind of books he does. 

“I like you a lot,” Sieglinde tells her when Lizzie drives her home that evening. The wheelchair is tucked into the boot of the small car and the radio is playing only very softly because Lizzie wants to hear every sound Sieglinde makes. She smiles over at her darkhaired friend. “I like you a lot too.” It’s a sentiment they have shared a few times over the last few weeks and Lizzie doesn’t think anything by it, having resigned herself to just being friends with this amazing, cheerful, strong young woman. 

So it comes as a surprise when Sieglinde leans over at a red light, turns Lizzie’s face towards her and kisses her full on the lips.

For a moment, Lizzie can’t breathe. She can’t think, even her vision blurs out for a moment; all that is there is the soft press of perfectly plush lips against hers, tasting like the pumpkin lip balm Sieglinde likes. She startles herself into motion before Sieglinde can pull away, canting her face to deepen the kiss and their tongues touch, tentatively, between their parted lips. It’s like a zing of pure electricity and Lizzie hums, pressing deeper, her tongue licking into Sieglinde’s mouth and gliding along hers. Sieglinde smells like the body splash Lizzie pointed out to her a week ago, soft dark hair falling into their faces like tendrils of spider silk and Lizzie lifts a hand to brush it back behind Sieglinde’s ear, fingers trailing along the strands. 

A car honks behind them and they jerk apart, staring at each other, two pairs of green eyes in different shades glancing wide and round before both break into giggles. Lizzie puts the car into gear and crosses the light just as it turns red again; the driver that honked at them has to stay behind and wait for another change. 

They land on Sieglinde’s bed as soon as they are there, on their sides facing each other and not wasting any words because kissing is so much more fun. Lizzie has her hand in the other girl’s hair, enchanted with the feel of it gliding through her fingers and Sieglinde tugs at Lizzie’s ponytail to make it come undone as well. Lizzie squirms closer and there is a charged moment when their chests touch through their thin tops; Lizzie’s breath stops for a moment because she knows what Sieglinde’s breasts look like in the cute bras they went shopping for together a while ago and she can’t wait to see if they look as juicy without fabric as they do wrapped in lace and cotton. Her fingers trail, feather light, over the brunette’s shoulder, down her arm to her waist and up against her ribcage. Sieglinde makes a soft noise that is all enjoyment and shifts so Lizzie’s hand presses more firmly against her body; her fingertips brush the underside of one mound and Lizzie has to pull away from Sieglinde’s mouth to breathe, glancing down to see her hand almost wrapped around her friend’s breast. A few inches more and it’s fully in her palm, fitting as it made for it, her thumb brushing the small peak of a nipple that rises against the fabric of her top. Sieglinde moans softly and closes her eyes, a flush in her cheeks. Lizzie skims her thumb back and forth for a moment, just to see how the other will react and is rewarded with another hitched moan. “I want to see,” she says in a voice she doesn’t fully recognize as hers but Sieglinde nods and shifts to pull her shirt up. Lizzie does the same. Feeling adventurous, Lizzie leans in and kisses the curve of that creamy neck as she reaches around Sieglinde to unhook her bra so the other girl won’t have to twist to do it herself. She takes off her own next and sinks back down to just lay across from Sieglinde to compare; Sieglinde does the same. Lizzie’s breasts are a size larger, round, with peach colored nipples. Sieglinde’s are perkier, her skin a shade darker, making the hard pink nubs stand out strikingly. Curiously Sieglinde reaches out with both hands and cups Lizzie’s, pushing them together to create a deep, enticing cleavage, then leans in and buries her face between the soft, warm mounds. Lizzie chuckles and strokes her hair, but gasps when the other girl begins nuzzling her, first between her breasts, then open-mouthed against one of her nipples. 

Hands traveling, they kiss again, deep and wet and Lizzie feels warm and wet between her thighs; their embrace becomes so tangled that she pushes a thigh between Sieglinde’s and feels the same there. Sieglinde moans into her mouth, muffled and with a whimper, trying to rock her hips and failing so Lizzie picks up the slack and rubs her thigh against Sieglinde’s panties under her skirt, feeling them cling wetly. Their chests are pressing together firmly, which is an odd feeling but Lizzie likes it and Sieglinde seems to enjoy it too because her hand is restlessly stroking up and down Lizzie’s waist from shoulder to hip and back until she dares to slip her fingers up her thigh and between her legs, brushing her soft, wet mound and making her cry out and press closer.

They’re both naked only a little while later, kissing and pressed together with one of Sieglinde’s legs drawn over Lizzie’s hip and their fingers working between them. Sieglinde seems fascinated with the soft, faint down covering Lizzie’s pussy, running her fingertips through the damp hair and dipping them inside of her when they spread her wetness everywhere; Lizzie enjoys the feeling of Sieglinde’s smooth, slick lips kissing eagerly against the palm of her hand when she slides her fingers deep inside the wet hole that just swallows her digits up greedily. They pant into each other’s mouths and Lizzie tries to make their nipples rub against each other but it’s really hard to coordinate and Sieglinde makes the prettiest noises when she curls her fingers just so, clenching around her when she comes and burying her face in Lizzie’s neck as she trembles with release. Lizzie follows a moment later when the feather touches of soft, damp fingertips against her clit become too much and she clamps her thighs firmly around Sieglinde’s hand for a moment with a soft wail, cheek resting against dark, fragrant hair.

Lizzie barely has the strength to pull the rucked comforter over them before they become too cold; she holds Sieglinde close and tiredly opens her eyes.

Across from her, right in the middle of Sieglinde’s impressive bookshelf, are the shoes Lizzie put on her foot when they met.

It makes her smile and hold the other girl just a little closer still. After all, it’s not the shoes – it’s what they represent that’s important.


End file.
